Time to Leave
by DinoDina
Summary: Jack hates his bunker in the Hub, but it's hard to escape, especially when Ianto's asleep on his shoulder. Janto oneshot.


**Written for avaantares's COE10 on Tumblr for the prompts: Jack Harkness / blue / grief/determination/time / night**

They had been run off their feet all day. It wasn't unusual, but Jack was getting tired. Not of Torchwood, exactly—the excitement, the team camaraderie, Ianto's coffee—but it would be nice to have a life in which he could get a full night of sleep.

Jack was exhausted. Next to him, Ianto was already asleep, having fallen onto the camp bed in Jack's bunker still in his clothes. He wanted to be sleeping, too; curled up next to Jack, now undressed, Ianto was the picture of peace. Jack knew he _wasn't_ at peace, not fully, and definitely not in the bunker, which was far too spartan for his tastes.

Jack hated his bunker. It was useful and technically enough of a space for him—he'd been in worse living conditions often enough. He was in a different stage of his life now, though, a better one. He had something to wake up to in the morning, he wanted to enjoy his time in this life.

The bunker was a relic of another time, another version of Jack. It was useful for staying overnight in the Hub in case of emergency for the occasional night shift Jack did. Sometimes he sent Ianto down for a nap if the day was too hectic. It was a good storage space.

But it wasn't a home.

Plenty of Torchwood teams had joked that he lived at the Hub. And he had, for a while—after Alex had killed his team and Jack had become leader—but only in extenuating circumstances. He had his own flat, now. It wasn't far from the Hub, but it was his.

The bunker was just a space. It was cold and cramped. In the dead of night, the walls and ceiling seemed to collapse; the shadows from the lightbulb hanging from the ceiling danced in the corners of the room; the Hub's ancient pipes creaked and gurgled and echoed around.

Between nightmares, insomnia, and Torchwood, Jack had a hard enough time getting a night's sleep; the fact that he so often couldn't get back to his flat at the end of the day didn't help.

It would have been insane to drive back that evening, however. Jack looked over at Ianto, his head pillowed on Jack's shoulder, and told himself to stop moving. Not that it was difficult to move around in the bunker—he could only toss and turn so much before he hit the cold wall.

Jack craned his head slightly to see the digital clock on the wall. Still late. Or early, depending on the point of Jack closed his eyes and thought of the night. Slightly cloudy, the city blocking the stars. Clear enough to see the moon. The air, corrupted by the city but seeming fresh from the rooftops. The sky dark over an unsuspecting city.

He shivered. It was time to leave.

And he _would_ leave, if not for Ianto sleeping. He couldn't leave Ianto alone. Ianto had never hidden his dislike for the bunker, either; his perfectionism and claustrophobia came together perfectly when it came to the bunker.

It wouldn't be right to leave Ianto there, especially since Jack had asked him down the bunker. It had been a long day, a long evening, and the night that Jack had wanted to make the most out of was turning long as well.

A few more minutes, and Jack would forget how to breathe.

He hated it here.

Jack gently shook Ianto's shoulder until Ianto blearily looked up at him. "Hey."

"What's going on? The Rift—"

"No, it's alright." Jack pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I... can we get out of here?"

Ianto squinted at their surroundings. "Of where?"

Jack chuckled. "We're at the Hub. Let's go back to my flat."

A sleepy Ianto was an adorable Ianto. Jack was glad when he didn't press—though he was evidently exhausted and hardly comprehending Jack's request—and instead staggered up to gather his clothes.

"You awake enough to drive?" Ianto asked, but he was already in the passenger's seat, his head resting on the window.

"You're not."

Jack hadn't been able to relax enough to fall asleep in the bunker. He could last another ten minutes.

He drove the SUV out of the Hub's underground garage. The night was exactly as he'd imagined, and it was glorious. Jack rolled down his window—Ianto was already dozing. The cool air was exactly what he needed to waft away the bunker's lingering stuffiness.

Not fully, of course. It wasn't just the bunker, Jack knew that, but it was a reminder of everything that had ever gone wrong in his life. Being down in the cold and dark left Jack alone with his thoughts, especially when he was trying to fall asleep. His nightmares were amplified, his mistakes seemed worse and haunted him with a fiercer vengeance than usual. The bunker was bare, cold, and lonely.

"We're here." Jack shook Ianto's shoulder again: firmly enough not to get through Ianto's sleep but gently enough not to scare him. It was how he liked to be woken up—not that he liked being woken up; falling asleep was difficult at best.

Jack might have preferred to stay outside, maybe go up on the roof. That was one of the reasons he'd bought the flat in this specific building. But for all that staying in the bunker had unnerved him, Jack didn't want to leave Ianto. They had only so much time together, and he'd take what he could get: waking up next to Ianto and having breakfast together. The roof would always be there.

"Do you need anything?" Ianto asked, stopping Jack in his tracks on the way into the bedroom.

Jack's breath stopped, too, for a second, because even dull with sleep, Ianto shone with earnestness. Jack squeezed his hand in gratitude. "No, but thank you. Just bed."

Ianto stayed silent, giving Jack the chance to change his mind. But standing in the flat, which was mostly windows, with Ianto beside him, Jack couldn't think of anything. He shook his head and watched fondly as Ianto climbed into his side of the bed, then joined him.


End file.
